No Place Like Home

By Anonymous

When people think of North Dakota, they think of small towns and communities. But many people don't think of those communities as being full of caring and helpful people. I never really thought about it much either until one day when I was in 5th grade.

It was a surprisingly warm autumn day and my family, and I was headed to church. When I walked in, I went to the back to get ready to serve for mass where you sit at the altar and help the priest. Looking in the back, I noticed I was going to be serving with a senior in high school, which made me nervous since I didn't know her. I got dressed in my white, heavy robe and church started.

Halfway through church, we went down in the front of the altar and knelt. As the priest starting talking, I suddenly got extremely hot. I got so uncomfortable I wanted to get up and go to the back and lie down. As if things couldn't get any worse, my left eye started twitching uncontrollably. It kept twitching for about ten seconds and that's all I remember before I passed out right on the altar server next to me. As she turned to look at why I was leaning on her shoulder, I fell back on the hard ceramic tile cracking my head.

When I woke up, I was in the back of the church lying on the cool tile with a wet towel on my face. I had about five different people exit church to assist my parents who carried me to the back while the priest continued on with mass. Three of these people were EMTs surrounding me asking if I was okay and trying to keep me conscious. My mom kept repeatedly asking me, "Katrina do you know what happened?" I told her no, and she told me I fainted right in the front of the church. I couldn't believe what I just heard and then she said, "We're taking you to the hospital in Oakes to get you checked out. The ambulance will be here any minute."

As I was on the 30-minute ambulance trip to Oakes, all I wanted to do was sleep. The paramedic kept telling me to try to stay awake and at one point, I told myself I was dying because I physically couldn't keep my eyes open. But they kept poking me with needles and telling me I was going to be okay. When I finally made it to the hospital, I was moved to a room where there were about five nurses. They started asking me questions about my day and drawing my blood before the doctor finally came in.

When the doctor came in, he worked quickly. I don't remember much since I was trying my best to sleep and not cooperate with him in any way. After what felt like hours of lying around, the doctor walked into my room and talked to my parents. He told them I would be fine and could go home and rest. He also mentioned I had to come in later for more blood tests. I was relieved and was excited to go home and sleep. I had no idea what would be waiting for me when I got home.

I got home and my parents went to pick up my siblings at a friend's house. When they got back, they jumped into bed with me and showed me the pictures they drew and colored for me while I was in the hospital. About an hour later, a family came over and dropped off some cookies and asked how I was doing. Later that night, another family stopped by and dropped off some food, flowers, and a card. Numerous people left messages while we were in Oakes and called throughout the day to express their concerns. I was surprised and grateful how much people cared enough to stop by and see how I was doing.

LaMoure is such a small community that everyone knew about what had happened to me within a day. Some people I didn't even know had sent cards or notes saying how they would continue to keep me in their prayers. Would you ever find this treatment in a larger community where not everyone knows their neighbors or church members? There really is no place like home.